A Sister's Quest (7 page)

She scowled. Their brief camaraderie had vanished as if it had never existed. Drawing her cloak around her, she looked out the window. She must remember that this was a job she had taken in order to see the world beyond Zurich. She must not let her longing for Alexei's kisses make her forget that.

Chapter Five

A knock sounded at the bedchamber door. Hastily Michelle hooked what she hoped was the last button on the back of her gown. She glanced around, but all of her smallclothes were packed away, ready for when they left in the morning. As with each of her baths during this journey, she had not had enough time to soak in the warm water. Sharing a room with Alexei made it impossible. She changed behind a screen, but with only the thin material between them, she was too aware of every movement he made.

Hurrying to answer the door, she winced as a splinter cut into her foot. It was her fault for not putting on her shoes. This
Gasthaus
was not as pleasant as the other inns where they had stayed.

She turned the key and called, “Come in.” Then she limped to the room's sole chair. The flimsy piece of furniture squeaked, but she ignored it as well as Alexei's greeting. Tipping her foot up, she frowned at the small, brown sliver.

“What did you do?” Alexei asked.

Looking up, Michelle silenced her retort as his gaze moved along her bare legs beneath her raised skirt. When his eyes met hers, she forgot about her immodest pose. All she could think of was trying to breathe. His green eyes were a maze, daring her to try to solve the puzzles hidden within them. But one thing was clear: the desire she had tasted on his lips that first night glittered in his eyes.

She forced her eyes away. “I have a sliver in my foot.”

“Do you need help?”

She started to refuse, knowing the danger of letting him touch her even so chastely; then she nodded. She could not reach the small sliver.

When he squatted, he balanced her foot on the knee of his breeches, which were almost the same color as the splinter. He grinned. “Even your feet are slender and pretty.”

“My foot hurts. If you are going to babble, I will remove the splinter.”

“No, no, I shall pull it out,” he said with a laugh. “There.”

Surprised, she asked, “All done?”

He held up the sliver. “See? Here it is.” Tossing it aside, he cupped her heel. His thumb rubbed the curve of her instep. “Is the rest of you as soft as this is?”

“Really, Alexei!” She started to stand, but he refused to relinquish her foot and she dropped back into the chair. It wobbled and collapsed.

His arms caught her before she could land on the floor. When she struck his hard body, she wondered if she would have been better off hitting the floor. Her breath exploded out. A rumble sounded beneath her ear. Slowly she realized he was laughing. The infectious sound surrounded her, reaching into her, making it impossible not to laugh, too. As his arm slipped around her, she chuckled and looked at the broken chair.

“I shall have to take the chair's cost out of your wages,
Liebchen
.” He laughed. “I suspect the innkeeper will charge highly for such an heirloom.”

She groaned with mock despair. “It shall take me years to repay it.”

“Yes, years.” His arm tightened around her, drawing her closer.

When her breasts brushed his firm chest, she laughed to pretend she was oblivious to the powerful emotions in his eyes—emotions she did not dare to explore, for they might entice her into discovering truths she had never guessed existed, such as how perfect his arms were around her.

Her voice barely quavered as she said, “I am surprised either Frau Herbart or I believed your tale that I would be back at St. Bernard's before next term.”

He stroked her damp hair before his fingers curved around her nape. “But you came with me,
Liebchen
.” He caressed her gently, sending pleasure through her. “This seems as good a time as any to ask you to forgive me for lying.”

Softly, she said, “You have me in a difficult position to refuse your apology.”

“I don't think this is a difficult position,
Liebchen
.” His lips brushed her cheek. When her hands gripped his sleeves, wanting to stay within this embrace of delight, he whispered, “I find this an incredibly fitting position to apologize.”

She rose before she gave in to the temptation to steer his mouth over hers. “Alexei, I meant only that I owed you a favor for pulling out the splinter.”

“And I wasted that favor on asking for an apology?” He chuckled and stood. “Stupid of me.” His finger outlined the shape of her lips. “I should have saved it for something much more delicious.”

Michelle picked up a towel. As if it were of the least concern, she asked, “Did you want something?”

“I shall not give you the obvious answer to your blatantly suggestive question.” He chuckled as he sat on the bed, making her too aware of how intimately they lived during this journey. “I thought you might like to join us for a drink before you go to bed. I know you think Rusak and I have ignored you the past few days.”

“No, no.” That was a lie. The two men had said barely a score of words to her in the past week as the carriage climbed slowly through the mountains.

“You should not have to hide here alone every night.”

“I do not want to disturb you two.”

“
Liebchen
, I would not call either Rusak's or my reaction to you anything as tepid as disturbing.” His smile disappeared as he rose. “Come along. We need to speak of what awaits us in Vienna.”

“Why didn't you say so instead of plying me with false compliments?”

His finger traced her cheekbone. “'Twas not false,
Liebchen
.”

She knew she should step away. She should fire some whetted comment at him that would remind him of his place and hers. When his finger slipped beneath her chin and tilted her mouth to his, she forgot all she should do and thought only of what she wanted to do.

“You look so lovely,” he whispered.

“Thank you.” Her breathless voice came from the depths of her heart.

“That was honest.”

“Yes.”

“And are you being as honest when you look at me with a craving to be kissed?”

“I am being nothing but myself.” She brought his lips to hers. She could not deny the longing that grew stronger each time he touched her, each time he teased her, each time she found a haven in his arms. Unhurriedly, delighting in every facet of her mouth, he lured her to soften against him.

Her hands slipped up his back to stroke the powerful sinews covered by his coat. When she touched his skin above his collar, its rough texture teased her fingertips to explore further.

Alexei muttered something and drew back, tugging her hands down to fold them between his. She regarded him with astonishment. She had not thought
he
would be the first to pull away.

“Alexei?”

“Turn around.”

“Pardon me?”

He spun her so she faced away from him. When his hands ran along the back of her gown, she gasped and jumped away. If he had stopped kissing her for
this
, he must be shown what a mistaken assumption he had made.

Before she could speak, he stepped in front of her. “Stop being a silly schoolgirl!” His laugh was serrated, cutting into her. “Your buttons are not done up correctly. Let me fix them. You certainly would not want anyone to think we had been surrendering to passion, although they are going to be curious after hearing that crash.”

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she did not turn. What, she wondered with a pulse of cold dismay, if he redid her gown wrong simply to serve as “proof” of his tale?

That thought must have been on her face, for he whirled her so she could see the back of her dress in the cracked mirror by the door. “Look. Here.” He touched a skipped button among the score running along her back. “And here. And here. You need someone to help you dress,
Liebchen
. We shall have to think about finding you a husband.”

“A husband? You think I want you helping me to find a husband?”

“Why not? You are the type of woman who would enjoy marriage.”

Keeping her spine straight as his fingers struggled with the bead-sized buttons, she asked, “What type of woman is that? A
Hausfrau
?”

“That is not what I meant.” He bent forward to fix another button. His words oozed warmly past her collar, and she leaned her hands on the footboard in front of her as her bones threatened to melt. “You have incredible passions within you that the right man would be a fool not to release.”

She tried to pay his enticing touch no mind, but it was impossible. “Certainly you are not offering marriage.”

He chuckled. “Certainly not. I am what the Germans call a
Hagestolz
, a confirmed bachelor. I might like hooking up a pretty lady, but that does not mean I wish it to be the same one night after night.”

Michelle did not answer. This personal, very frank conversation unnerved her. He had hinted that they might be in Vienna for several months. Alexei was a virile man. While she portrayed his mistress, he would have fewer opportunities to become involved with another woman. Only fewer, she acknowledged, because she did not doubt that Alexei could do anything he set his mind to.

“I did not mean to embarrass you,
Liebchen
.”

At the unexpected apology, Michelle looked into the mirror and saw his face too close to hers. She could taste his mouth again if she tilted her head so very slightly. Lowering her eyes to stare at the reflection of her clenched hands, she said, “You must remember that I am still Fraulein D'Orage of St. Bernard's School for Girls.”

“Only if you want to be.” He traced the curve of her lips. “Look at these, and tell me what man could resist them.” His finger continued along her jaw to pause just below her ear. He twisted a strand of her hair around it. “This black silk is obscured within your conservative bun.” His lips seared fire against her nape. “But to think of it loose and flowing along you when—”

“Alexei, stop!” She had intended to chide him, but the words came out as a desperate plea. With so few words, he was creating captivating fantasies, fantasies in which the man sampling her lips was Alexei Vatutin.

“Why,
Liebchen
?”

She remained silent, knowing she risked speaking the truth if she opened her mouth. Would he laugh if she told him how much she wanted him to kiss her now?

He sighed, stepping away. “When this is finished, I shall find you a list of suitable suitors.”

“A list?” Facing him, she asked, “Do you think I wish to go from mistress to courtesan?”

He began to chuckle. When she asked what was so amusing, his answer was nearly lost amid his laughter. “You are so fetching when you endeavor to be a proper lady, Michelle. Why don't you be yourself?”

“This
is
me.”

“No,” he stated, abruptly serious. “No, the prim Fraulein D'Orage is just what you have learned to be. Inside you is a woman who is as fierce as a dragon, snorting fire at anyone who gets in her way.”

Her eyebrows arched. “Is that so? I did not realize that you were such an expert on me, but I should have known that Alexei Vatutin is an expert on everything. At least, in his own mind.”

“There.” He grinned. “St. Bernard's language mistress would never say such a thing.” He held out his arm. “Let's go downstairs. We can argue just as easily there, and I can find something to stanch the wounds left by your glare.”

When he started to lead her toward the door, she said, “Wait. I need to put on my shoes and stockings.”

He scooped them up and handed them to her with a bow. Sitting on the bed, she put her thick stockings on her lap. “Now 'tis your turn to turn around, Alexei.”

“Why?”

“You have already seen too much of my limbs this evening.”

Leaning forward, he gave her a roguish leer. He picked up one stocking and dangled it in front of her. Snatching it from him, she reached up to shove him aside. As she touched his chest, she froze, aching to explore its breadth. The mirth vanished from his eyes, disclosing a fierce glow. His mouth lowered toward hers.

With a curse, he turned his back. “Get dressed! I am thirsty.”

“Alexei—”

“Get dressed!”

Hurt by his harsh tone, she drew her stockings up beneath her skirt. What had happened? What she had seen on his face could not have been anything but desire—the same desire tormenting her as she thought of his eager kisses.

Michelle sighed. She never would figure out this enigmatic man, and she was not sure if she wanted to. It would be best to forget about his touch and think only of the job she had been hired to do. That was impossible, she knew, as she lowered her skirts and bent to hook the buttons on her shoes.

“Here. Let me help.” Alexei knelt again and swiftly closed her half boots. “Why do you wear these clumsy things? Ladies are wearing slippers now.”

“Fashion is not important to me.”

“That I have noticed.” When he offered his arm again, she put her hand on it gingerly.

She was not sure if he would smile or lash out at her. He did neither. While they walked down the narrow steps to the common room, he said nothing.

Her nose wrinkled at the odors left from too many meals. At supper, the meat and bread on her plate had resembled slops given to hogs. Her middle cramped, making her regret that she had eaten at all.

Several men lounged about the room, but she was the only woman. The innkeeper stood behind a table that held a keg and a pyramid of pewter tankards. No candles were lit. The flames from the hearth offered the only light. No one seemed to mind, but she did not want to call attention to herself by tripping over an uneven board.

Or more attention. Every eye was focused on her, including those of their coachman, who was laughing with several men she had never seen. She wanted to flick away their lecherous gazes and was grateful when Alexei motioned for her to sit. Her gratitude vanished when she saw the man across from her.